


It Always Comes Back to You

by kayromantic



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Slow Burn, This is what happens when you pine for ten years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18363020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayromantic/pseuds/kayromantic
Summary: Charlie doesn't know why went to the Minnesota-Anaheim game, or whether he expects anything to come of it. All he knows is that it's been ten years and he still somehow misses Adam Banks like crazy.





	It Always Comes Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you to [@satelliteinasupernova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satelliteinasupernova/pseuds/satelliteinasupernova) for the beta!

Charlie Conway had no idea what he was doing here, leaning against the side of the stadium watching the small group of over-ecstatic Minnesota Wild fans waiting for the players to walk through the exit, hoping to score a autograph and maybe even a photo-op.

Charlie was not there for the home team, or the visiting team for that matter. There was only one person who Charlie really wanted to see walk out the door. Charlie hadn’t spoken to Adam Banks in years—ten to be exact, but Charlie was here to see him all the same. It was destiny, Charlie thought to himself, that Adam Banks had ended up on the Anaheim Ducks of all teams. _Once a Duck, always a Duck_ turned out to be especially true in Adam’s case.

This wasn’t the first time Adam had been back in town either, so Charlie couldn’t quite figure out why exactly he had decided to come this time as opposed to any of the number of previous times Adam’s team had been in town.. Maybe it was because nothing of any real note was going on in his life right now. Maybe Bombay’s countless comments about them losing touch had finally gotten to him. But whatever the reason, Charlie had bought the tickets on a whim and now was waiting out in a late winter cold to—

Charlie didn’t know what he was to do or what he expected. All he could think to do was remember the reason why it had taken ten years in the first place.

_(Ten Years Earlier)_

The atmosphere in the Ducks’ locker room was electric. They had won, a huge exclamation point on the team’s eight year history as a team. Charlie, their leader as the Duck’s captain was right in the thick of it, as he often was. He’d noticed that Adam Banks, the team’s star player and Charlie’s best friend-slash-roommate, was hanging off to the side of the team’s celebratory huddle and Charlie did what always did—he extricated himself from the rest of the team and slung his arm around Adam’s shoulder and pulled him into the huddle along with the rest of their teammates .

It was a gesture that Charlie had done a thousand times over the years without question, but something about that night was different, because Adam shrank back at the touch. Charlie noticed but didn’t do anything, at least, not right away. He got it. As great as it was that they won, this was also the end. THe end of The Mighty Ducks, the Minnesota Miracle. Things would never be like this again. Charlie and Adam most likely would never share the ice again. Not as teammates or even rivals.

Charlie didn’t want to think about that or the small, dull pain he felt whenever he pondered the fact that the future would set them on different paths. So he did what he always did and pushed them aside to be dealt with at some later point. Charlie avoided thinking about it again later when they finally hit the showers. Instead, he tried to focus on the party that was sure to follow and on the ways he could cheer Adam up. Adam had a tendency to fold into himself and Charlie didn’t want him to do that. Not tonight, not when they had so much to celebrate. The Championship tonight, and graduation in a few months. Better to revel than focus on the inevitable good-bye.

As luck would have it, Charlie and Adam were the last ones out of the showers and the last to leave. Adam was sorting through his locker, they would have a week or so before they would have to clear out their lockers for good, but Charlie sensed that Adam’s putzing around wasn’t really about that. Charlie ran a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower.

“It was a great game,” Charlie said jovially, trying to lift up the mood.

“Yeah,” Adam said.

“You were really great, that last shot— I think I saw a couple of scouts in the audience,” Charlie said, “I’m sure you knocked them dead.”

He noted that Adam stiffened at the mention of professional recruiters. Something was definitely wrong, and Charlie didn’t think he could chalk it up to the bittersweetness of the end of their final season.

“It’s sad though, too. I mean this is really the end, huh,” Charlie said, “No more Ducks.”

Adam did nothing but nod.

“I mean, we still have the rest of the school year, but it won’t be the same, you know, without hockey.”

“Charlie—”

Charlie met Adam’s eyes and something inside him told him that this moment was critical. A crossroads. Adam began to stutter and that briefly broke the tension in Charlie. He couldn’t help notice the lines on Adam’s forehead or the way his sandy blond hair framed his face. This was not the first time that Charlie had found himself noting particular details about his friend. He had never thought much of it.

“What is it, Adam?” Charlie asked when Adam continued to struggle to get out whatever it was he was trying to say.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Charlie didn’t quite comprehend what Adam was getting at. He was leaving? Where? Why was it such a big deal. Spring break was almost upon them, it wasn’t usual for kids to leave for vacation and with the season over…

“Okay, when will you be back?” Charlie asked.

Charlie watched Adam closely as he took in a deep breath.

“No, I mean I’m leaving school,” Adam said, “I’m going to enter the draft.”

Charlie couldn’t do anything but stare at his friend. Adam leaving to play hockey professionally had always been a possibility—Charlie knew that Adam’s dad was really keen on the idea—but Charlie had never considered that Adam would actually do it, or do it prior to graduating.

“When did you decide this?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve been in talks for weeks,” Adam said, and Charlie quickly ran through everything that had happened in the last two weeks, “but it wasn’t finalized until a couple of days ago.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Charlie said, not even trying to conceal the hurt in his voice. He told himself he was okay with Adam leaving. Adam should have probably left years ago if Charlie was honest with himself. It was the not telling him that bothered Charlie. Maybe they weren’t as close as Charlie thought.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. No one was closer to Adam than Charlie and vice versa. They were a pair. The whole team had thought so to the point where it was a running joke. Wherever Spazway was, Cake-Eater couldn’t be that far behind.

“I know, I didn’t want to distract from the game or college applications,” Adam said, “but this was always the plan. My dad wanted me to leave sooner, but I wanted to finish the season with…the team.”

Charlie couldn’t help but hear the silent _you_ in that sentence. He gulped. Charlie couldn’t tell how he knew, but he knew that it wouldn’t really be the team that Adam missed.

“Right,” Charlie said.

Charlie wanted to yell and shout, but he couldn’t. Adam wasn’t doing anything wrong, and Charlie wanted to be the supportive friend. He didn’t want to believe that this could possibly be the last time that he saw his friend. Who else would he pal around with when Goldberg and Averman became too much. Who else would commiserate with him when things went south with his stepdad?

“This sucks” was all that Charlie could manage, “I mean I’m happy for you, but I just thought we’d have more time, you know.”

“I know,” Adam said.

Charlie couldn’t think of anything else to say. He wanted to put on a smile, punch Adam in the shoulder, and tell him that he was going to knock everyone dead with how good he was. But Charlie couldn’t do it, at least he couldn’t do it in any way that felt true.

The only thing he could think about was how much Charlie was going to miss him.

That was all there was to it. Charlie was going to miss Adam in a way that he didn’t think he was going to or could miss anyone else.

“There’s something else—”

Charlie noted that Adam had straightened out, his eyes were suddenly clear and focused. Charlie noted for a moment their shade. A shiver travelled up his spine.

“Yes,” Charlie said, internally berating himself for how weakly that came out.

Adam looked like he was going to say something, but then he just managed to curse under his breath before he stepped towards Charlie and—

He kissed him.

Charlie didn’t so much as freeze as stiffen when Adam’s lips touched his. But just as quickly he found himself reflexively leaning into Adam’s touch. The kiss was awkward and not smooth at all, but Charlie didn’t really care. He focused more on how it felt, or how there was a tiny voice in the back of his said that whispered finally. He asked himself why they hadn’t done this sooner.

Emboldened by how much he was enjoying this—kissing Adam—he lifted his hands to pull Adam closer, but when his left hand touched the back of Adam’s neck, Adam tensed; he suddenly pushed himself away and took a step back.

“I gotta go—”

Charlie could barely even react let alone say anything before Adam was rushing out the door. He couldn’t even watch as Adam disappeared through the locker room door.

When he finally recovered from the shock of it all, he just stood there. He stood there until a profound feeling of dread and regret washed over him.

It was too late. Somehow in the span of two minutes, Charlie knew he had lost Adam forever.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Charlie brought himself back to the present. It was somewhat astonishing to him that he could still remember that moment with such clarity and detail. The pain was still very real and very raw. And very much unresolved.

He hadn’t try to call Adam after that and Adam hadn’t tried to call him either. Of all the ways that Charlie could have conceived of how their friendship would end, this was not what he could ever have imagined. Absolute silence. Eight years of friendship blown out over what? One simple kiss? If any of the other Duck’s noted the fallout between the two, they never said anything, and Charlie would lie whenever asked whether he and Adam kept in touch.

And eventually, everyone went their separate ways, and Charlie, to no one’s surprise, poured himself into life at university and club hockey. There were new friends to be made and Charlie pushed to forget what had happened his last year of high school, and the friend (possible lover) that got away.

And Charlie thought he was somewhat successful in that—forgetting what happened. As much as he hated change in general, he found it fairly easy to just move on with his life. And it wasn’t like he had given up on romance or stayed hung up on Adam to the point that he didn’t put himself out there.

There had been his first college girlfriend, Stephanie, a plucky nursing major, who Charlie thought had been one of the funniest people he had ever met. That lasted for eight months before school and hockey and a study abroad opportunity got in the way.

And then there was Gavin, a bassist for a local indie rock band that Charlie had gotten involved with over the summer between sophomore and junior year before. It had been a somewhat thrilling romp before they ended up calling it quits when Gavin had left to tour at the beginning of fall term. Charlie still had a CD from that experience tucked in the drawer by his nightstand (the band was actually really terrible, but Charlie kept it for its inherent nostalgic value). Charlie didn’t spend a lot of time thinking on the fact that being with guy was just as easy as being with a girl.

And there had been a string of casual relationships and hook ups with both girls and guys peppered throughout the years. The most serious relationship Charlie had was a two year romance with a girl named Karen right after he finished his undergraduate degree. He had even seriously considered proposing when she had abruptly left him for some wildlife guru to backpack in the Himalayas or something . Charlie, with his ‘I was born in Minnesota, I’ll die in Minnesota’ attitude, just hadn’t been exciting enough apparently.

It was in those low moments in his life when he would remember Adam. Not just that last night—the kiss and how it ended,—but all the days and the years before. The impromptu one-on-ones on the ice that always ended with them getting a lecture from Coach O about wasting school resources. Stumbling into the Eden Hall dorm room after a party or a prep rally, hassling the other over whatever prank or exploit that had inevitably happened whenever the Ducks went anywhere. The way that they could talk about anything and nothing for hours. And Charlie would feel that familiar loathsome ache. Not just for whatever was currently going wrong in his life but over what he had lost.

Charlie reminiscing was interrupted when he heard the bustle from the group at the exit doors. Charlie watched as various players began to come out. A lot of Minnesota players stopped to sign various paraphernalia, but Charlie ignored them, choosing instead to focus on the exiting Anaheim players, who made their way past the hometown fans and towards the waiting Greyhound Bus idling just a few feet away.

Charlie figured that there was a good chance he probably wouldn’t even recognize Adam, especially considering the dreadful lighting of the place. Charlie had minimally kept track of Adam’s career, but not so close enough that he could necessarily picture how Adam looked now. If he saw him at all, it was only on tv during a game when Adam was covered in pads and his face obscured by the helmet. Whenever Charlie thought of Adam, he was still that slight, overly nervous eighteen year old that Charlie had roomed with throughout high school.

But Charlie figured wrong, because as soon as he saw Adam make his way out of the door, he recognized him instantly. Adam Banks had always stood out, no matter the team, and knowing that, a part of Charlie knew that he would recognize Adam anywhere, no matter the lighting or the number of years that had gone by.

Nerves, both from anticipation and excitement, began to get the best of him. The thought that he should leave right then and there, that seeing Adam alone was enough was incredibly tempting. He didn’t know what he was hoping to achieve. Maybe to quiet the nagging guilt of having not kept in touch, or to quiet the questions that he had pondered for so many years. To lay them to rest, so he could move on, basically.

He turned to head to the parking lot to go home when the sound of someone approaching him caused him to stop.

“Charlie?”

Charlie knew who it was, but he didn’t turn around instantly. He had to brace himself. The sound of his name on Adam’s lips caused something to run through the length of his body. It was silly. They hadn’t spoken in years. He shouldn’t be affected like this. They were basically strangers after all.

He turned around and sucked in a breath. Adam stood across from him. He was taller, more built, but that was to be expected, him being a professional athlete and all. His hair was longer than it had been in high school, and his face had lost a bit of the baby fat. It was too dark, but Charlie would bet anything that his eyes were still that murky brown, that always seemed to look too serious. He was still Adam. He stood, his heavy wool jacket covering a gray sweater, a teal and purple strap from his duffel strung across his chest.

Charlie wondered for a moment how he looked to Adam. His hair was short, but was covered by a hat. He was not nearly in as good of shape as he had been in high school and college, though it was obviously hard to tell under layers of coats. He hoped that the small meager smile that he threw Adam’s way would be enough to hide the torrent of emotions running through him.

“Hey.” That was all that Charlie managed to get out.

“What are you doing here?” Adam’s tone wasn’t accusatory or brusque, just tinged with a bit of surprise and maybe even hope. It was obvious Adam hadn’t expected for Charlie to be here. Why would he? Why had he come? Charlie had never attempted to make a game before. He had never tried to reach out.

Before Charlie could respond to Adam’s question, one of Adam’s teammates came up from behind him.

“Banks are you coming? Everything alright?” The guy’s accent was thick, Charlie guessed maybe Austrian or German. Charlie would hate to have to come up against him on the ice. Charlie thought about using the interruption to make a break for it, but he stopped himself.

Charlie wasn’t the one who ran.

Adam turned from staring at Charlie and nodded.

“I’m fine, Burman, I’ll be there in a minute,” Adam said, “It’s just an old—teammate.”

Charlie noted the pause before he said the word teammate. Yes, that was all they were. Not friends. Not anything more.

The guy, Burman, didn’t look convinced—Charlie could tell by the scowl on his face—but he relented and walked off towards the bus, pointing at his watch to hurry Adam along.

“You should go,” Charlie said, “I don’t want to keep you.”

He turned towards the parking lot, looking to head out when Adam interrupted.

“No!”

Charlie stopped and looked at Adam. There was an urgency and plea there that Charlie didn’t quite understand.

“Sorry,” Adam said, and Charlie could have sworn that Adam’s face was tinged with a faint red. Whether that was from nerves or the cold, Charlie couldn’t tell.

“You were at the game,” Adam finally said, he looked down, almost sheepish and Charlie wondered if that question was really the only reason Adam had stopped him.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, but didn’t elaborate.

“BANKS!”

They both turned to the waiting bus and a guy stood at the bus door waving for Adam to join them.

This was it, now or never, and Charlie didn’t even let himself to think, he just went forward.

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

Adam nodded and then waved the bus with his team off. He’d meet up with them later.

It was more than Charlie could have ever hoped for.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Neither Charlie nor Adam said anything as they walked through the parking lot to Charlie’s car. Nor did they say anything once they reached. At first, Charlie didn’t even know where to go. He couldn’t take Adam to his apartment, that felt too personal. So he settled on a twenty-four hour diner not far from the stadium. Adam was probably hungry, back in high school they always seemed to scarf down a ton of food following a game.

They clambered into a booth towards the back of the diner, not that they needed to worry about being disturbed. The place was practically empty and it was highly unlikely that anyone would recognize Adam here.

Their silence lasted until after the waitress had brought them coffee and taken their orders. It was Charlie who broke the ice.

“It was a good game,” Charlie said.

Adam nodded, “Yeah, we’re pretty good. Still don’t know if we’ll make the playoffs though.”

If it hadn’t been ten years since they had last spoken to each other, Charlie would have assured him that they would, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He kept the topic on hockey though. That felt safe, less personal. It was sort of ironic, Charlie thought to himself. Hockey was what had brought them together, now it was an excuse to keep them apart.

“You looked good,” Charlie said, “Though you sort of have a twinge in your right shoulder after you shoot.”

“You noticed that?” Adam asked, and Charlie avoided making eye contact. Of course he’d noticed. During the entirety of the game, he had been transfixed on Adam’s every move. Charlie hadn’t cared about anyone else on that ice.

“Yeah, I mean——,” Charlie trailed off and just stared out the window at the occasional passing car and flicking streetlights.

“I twisted it in practice a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t that bad, I didn’t think anyone could tell.”

Charlie shrugged.

“I’m a physical therapist, it’s my job to notice things like that.” It wasn’t really his job, but the talk of Charlie’s occupation was a better subject than discussing anything else aside from hockey. Charlie explained to Adam about how he had worked as a physical trainer for a local high school football team for the first years after college while working for his doctoral degree, and he had started a private practice with a friend from school upon earning his certification.

They stayed in the realm of the relatively inane and everyday. Neither of them wanting to bring up the lack of communication over the last decade, but inside Charlie was screaming. There was so much he wanted to know. So much he wanted to ask.

_How have you been? Why haven’t you called? Have you thought about me at all? Why did you run? Did you miss me?_

_Why did you kiss me?_

Charlie kept it in, though. He had made the first move all of his life. He wanted—no—he needed Adam to make the first move this time. Adam just talked about his time in NHL, his family and about California. Adam talked about how he struggled those first few years after leaving Eden Hall and about an injury that had occurred four years in that had almost cost Adam his entire career. Charlie felt guilty at that. He should have called. Reached out. Let Adam know that everything was okay, that he was there for him, in spite of everything.

That he still wanted to be friends.

They lapsed back into silence when the food came, and Charlie spent most of it focusing on his plate. They were running out of innocuous things to talk about. They had gone over their careers, their families, their former teammates.

There wasn’t anything else except—

“So I take it you’re not married.”

Charlie pushed his now empty plate aside and looked at Adam. They had pointedly not talked about that aspect of either of their lives. By Adam’s tone, Charlie could tell he was trying to be casual, but was actually curious. Charlie didn’t know if he should feel flattered by the curiosity.

“No, I came close once but that’s it.”

Charlie doesn’t elaborate and Adam doesn’t push, so Charlie shoots it right back.

“And you?”

Adam shook his head, “Too busy. Schedule’s crazy.”

“Right,” Charlie said, though they both know that that’s a flimsy excuse. Dating while playing a sport professionally wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible either.

“So you don’t have—,” Charlie paused and went over how he wanted to get this out, “anyone special.”

It was a bit trite, but they were avoiding pronouns, avoiding the thing hanging above them like a cloud. Charlie debated for a second about telling Adam that it was okay, he’d been with guys, but he didn’t see any way that that wouldn’t lead to them to addressing what happened ten years ago.

“No,” Adam said, “And you? You said you got close once.”

Charlie smirked.

“Nope, my life is a bit lackluster in that department.” Charlie said, and he thought to himself that they really should have gone to a bar, not a diner. He could really use a drink right now, anything to lower his nerves and less his inhibitions. They were being too careful, dancing around the subject.

“Same,” Adam said.

There was nothing else to be said, not unless they wanted to broach the elephant in the room.

“I should have called,” Charlie said finally.

“It should have been me,” Adam disagreed, “I was the one who ran.”

Charlie almost asked why, but he left it at that. At least Adam was admitting it. He wasn’t ready for the ramifications of that question. They were talking and that was enough.

For now.

“I missed you.”

Charlie hadn’t mean to say that, but it was a reflex. One of them had to truly make the first move. And it might as well be him, even though a part of him thought it would have been nice if Adam for once took the initiative.

“You did?”

Charlie nodded.

“There were so many times that something would happen and I wanted to tell you, but I could never find a reason to.”

“Me too. I don’t know how this became such a mess,” Adam said, but doesn’t offer any other thoughts.

“Me neither,” Charlie said.

They lapsed into another awkward silence, which was thankfully interrupted by the waitress dropping off the check.

“Should probably get you back to the hotel,” Charlie said, finally. It was late, and he was sure Adam’s plane the next day would be early.

Adam didn’t protest; he just nodded. They got up and paid at the counter and when they reached Charlie’s car, Charlie just shot a glance over the roof of his car.

“Let’s not go another ten years,” Charlie said, it was all he could really say in the moment.

Charlie felt a bit of relief when Adam readily agreed. When Charlie dropped him off at the hotel he handed him one of his business cards he always kept handy in his wallet so that he could pass on to prospective clients. It was too formal really for what they were, but it would work for now, Charlie didn’t exactly keep a pen and paper lying around.

“You call me,” Charlie said, “We’re still friends.”

“Yes, we are.”

Adam stepped out of the car and made a move towards the hotel entrance but then stopped and turned around.

“Charlie.”

“Yes?”

Adam swallowed a breath and looked straight into Charlie’s eyes, and Charlie felt it down to his bones

“I missed you, too.” And with that Adam turned and headed into the hotel. Charlie didn’t peel his eyes away from his retreating friend for even a moment until he had disappeared.

Charlie felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. It was true that they hadn’t really addressed what had transpired all those years before. But this was a start, maybe they could recapture some of what they had all when they were younger.

All Charlie could tell himself was that he wasn’t going to let Adam go this time.

He didn’t think too hard on what that meant.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Two weeks passed before Adam actually called Charlie, but he’d texted the day after their talk in the diner to let Charlie know that he had gotten back to California alright. Charlie had texted back instantly, but couldn’t quite bring himself to actually dial the number. The foundation of this newly connected friendship was still precarious and Charlie didn’t want to rush things.

Charlie had instantly called his cable company to upgrade to the premium sports package so that he would never miss a game if he didn’t have to. His renewed friendship with Adam meant that he was now keenly into following the California team’s season very closely.

When they did call each other, they mostly kept the conversation to hockey. Adam worried about how they would do when Anaheim’s—there was only one team Charlie would deign call the Ducks—right wing was taken out by a torn ACL and there was only an inexperienced rookie to replace him. Charlie reassured Adam that everything would be fine, they still had a shot at the post-season, but unfortunately that was dashed when they dropped the next two games in a completely deflating fashion.

“So, will you stay in California during the offseason?” Charlie asked, after he allowed Adam to air out his disappointment at the way his season had ended without making the playoffs.

“I don’t know,” Adam said, “I mean a lot of the guys stick around but…”

“You should come back to Minnesota,” Charlie suggested. He hadn’t meant to say that, but he was glad that he had. It would be nice to have Adam back in Minnesota for a sustained period, if for no other reason than to help in further repairing their friendship.

At least that is what Charlie reminded himself.

Adam was silent on the other end of the phone at Charlie’s suggestion.

“Are you sure?” Adam asked, his voice was tentative, “It wouldn’t be weird?

“Not at all,” Charlie feigned confidence, “Besides, I get that California is the land of the sun and all, but you can’t beat a Minnesota summer.”

“You only say that because you have to experience a Minnesota winter,” Adam said.

Charlie laughed. A real laugh. The ease and camaraderie was slowly returning. This felt like how it used to, when their conversations were easy and free.

“But no, you should come,” Charlie said, “Bombay gave me a key to his lake house, so we can head up there for a weekend or so and Connie and Guy would love to see you.”

Charlie doesn’t let on how much he wanted to see him. That would be too much.

Adam didn’t immediately respond to that and Charlie imagined Adam shuffling his feet and biting his bottom lip like he always did when he was nervous. He probably didn’t do that anymore, but Charlie liked to think that his friend hadn’t completely changed.

“My mom would be happy,” Adam said finally, “and it isn’t like I have anyone around here anyways. Yeah, sure, I’ll come back.”

“Great, I think Connie has the hook up on short term leases in the area,” Charlie said, he stopped himself from offering the spare room in his apartment. They weren’t ready for that. Rather he talked more about showing Adam his practice, and fishing at the lake and just how badthe Twins were going to be that year.

Charlie didn’t want to admit to himself that he might have had an ulterior motive in convincing Adam to spend the offseason in Minnesota. He told himself he just wanted to make up for lost time.

They were friends. That was all.

Nothing less.

Nothing more.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Charlie picked Adam up from the airport just a couple short weeks later. Any remaining awkwardness that still lingered between them was forgotten when Charlie pulled Adam into a short hug at the baggage claim area of the airport.

“Welcome back, Banksie,” he said, simply.

“It’s good to be back,” Adam said, and Charlie reflected how neither of them could keep the smiles off their faces. Charlie couldn’t quite believe how far they had come in such a short time. A few months prior they hadn’t been talking at all. Now they were smiling and laughing like Adam had never left.

Adam leased a small furnished one bedroom, not far from Charlie’s place, and the two of them would often meet early in the mornings for runs and conditioning before Charlie had to leave for work.

It was amazing to Charlie how instantly a lot of their old rapport came back. It was like they could really pick right back up where they left off, hustling and jostling each other as if ten years separation hadn’t occurred.

Connie remarked when they met them at a local bar not long after Adam’s return to town that it was good to see them back together. It was like old times.

Though not everything was exactly like it had been.

They still hadn’t discussed the kiss or Adam running away afterwards, but Charlie was beginning to think that maybe they didn’t need to. They could just leave mistakes in the past and let bygones be bygones. It was nothing. Things that happened at the age of eighteen didn’t need to matter at the age of twenty-eight.

Except sometimes, after a workout, or when they were hanging at the local pub Charlie would catch a glance of Adam’s lips and he would remember how they felt against his and Charlie would feel a pang of...something. He’d shrug it off, though. They were talking and they were friends and that was all that Charlie had ever really wanted. All that he could ever hope for. Why mess up the obviously good thing they had going?

Whatever feelings had existed back then, Adam had shown no indication that he still felt them and so Charlie tried to stay in the here and now and focus on the what is and not on the what was or—

Or what could have been.

Over the course of the next few months, there was barely a day that went by where they weren’t doing something together. Of course, Charlie did have work, and he didn’t quite know what Adam did when he wasn’t around.

Mid-June, they had trekked up to Bombay’s Lake House for a weekend and while they did manage to go fishing without tipping the boat over (something that happened any other time Charlie had come with his former teammates) they mostly kept to the dock. Adam ended up piecing through a book, while Charlie lazily cast a fishing line out into the placid water.

“I should get a dog,” Charlie said, when he was tired of the easy silence they had fallen into.

“Oh really,” Adam said, not even looking up from the book he was reading.

“A retriever, or something,” Charlie said, “Teach it to hunt.”

“You don’t hunt,” Adam said.

Charlie stared at him.

“Why do you have to ruin everything,” Charlie said, “You were always a spoilsport.”

“I’m just being realistic.”

Charlie laughed at the smile on Adam’s face. Life, he thought, couldn’t and most likely wouldn’t get better than this.

Around mid-July, with about a month left before Adam was due back in California for pre-season training, Charlie and Adam met Connie and Guy for a Twins game and then an impromptu barbecue in their backyard. The four former teammates leaned back in chairs and watched as Connie and Guy’s kids ran through the backyard chasing fireflies.

They reminisced about playing on the Ducks, and discussed Adam’s prospects in the upcoming season.

“Do you think you’ll stay in California after next year?” Guy asked, and Charlie perked up at the question. Neither he nor Adam talked much about the future.

Adam shrugged.

“It depends,” Adam said, “I mean, I like it just fine, but there’s probably a better team out there. I would love to make it to a Stanley Cup Finals at least once before my career is done.”

“You will,” Charlie said, putting on the confidence that he was known for.

Adam nodded, but Charlie watched as his friend retreated into himself. Adam always did that when he was uncertain about something or worried. Charlie wasn’t going to have any of that, not while he was around and so he knocked Adam on the shoulder.

“Look, I think this year is going to be your year, Banksie,” Charlie said, and smiled when Guy jumped in and pushed the conversation to talk less about Adam’s own prospects but more to stories from things that happened last season.

Charlie contented himself to just watch as Adam argued with Guy about how good the front line was or whether it was a mistake to take out the goalie during a power play before a game had even reached halftime. He almost lost himself to listening to their conversation when Connie nudged him and asked him to help her carry in the dishes to the kitchen.

“It’s so great seeing the two of you together again,” Connie said when they were finally alone in the kitchen.

“What?” Charlie asked, he had only been half paying attention to Connie, rather paying attention to Guy and Adam arguing about something outside.

“You and Adam. It’s like old times out there,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s great that he’s back,” Charlie admitted.

He felt rather than saw the way that Connie’s gaze on him softened in what Charlie could only guess was sympathy. But sympathy for what? Charlie tried not to think too much on what that meant, or the idea that Connie somehow knew that there was something more at play than two old friends reconnecting after years apart. He mentally prayed that she would just drop it.

“Whatever happened between the two of you?” Connie asked after sliding the last dish into the dishwasher.

So much for that.

“What do you mean?” Charlie aske. He tried to feign ignorance as if he didn’t possibly know what Connie was getting at, but it didn’t work. She knew him too well.

“I mean, you guys were practically attached at the hip in high school—” Charlie tried to protest but Connie put a hand up to stop him, “and then all of sudden he leaves for the NHL and you guys don’t talk for ten years—”

“We talked.”

Connie didn’t have to saying anything for Charlie to know she didn’t believe him.

“It’s just time and distance, you know,” Charlie said, “Isn’t it natural that high school friends drift apart?”

“Sure,” Connie said, “but the two of you were never just high school friends.”

Charlie did not ask what she meant by that.

“I don’t know. You two always just seemed so inseparable and then it was like—” Connie composed herself. Charlie wanted to switch the subject to anything else, but he didn’t. Maybe a part of him wanted to get all this off his chest, and he certainly couldn’t go to Adam.

“It was like you guys became complete strangers. I mean Adam didn’t even come to our wedding,” Connie said.

“That had nothing to do with me,” Charlie said.

“Wasn’t it?”

Charlie sighed. He could make excuses, but he knew it was true. The reason that Adam said no to every Ducks reunion was probably due to Charlie. No one ever brought it up and Charlie assumed that the others just thought that Adam was too busy with life as a pro to come.

But he had been wrong about that, apparently. They had suspected something.

Charlie had never told anyone what had happened ten years ago, why he and Adam had stopped speaking, why Adam would have avoided him by not coming to the Ducks’ get togethers over the years. It was something Charlie had kept to himself. Maybe it was because it hurt too much to talk about. Maybe because he was afraid. Maybe because he was ashamed that he hadn’t reached out sooner and didn’t want to be rightfully told that he had waited too long. There were a lot of reasons for it.

He didn’t particularly want to tell Connie now, but he knew she wasn’t going to drop it. Not until he gave her a good enough reason to satisfy. And Charlie knew he was terrible liar. He wouldn’t be able to fake it.

“The last night, when we won state—Adam told me that he was leaving.”

“And you guys fought about that?” Connie asked.

“No, we didn’t fight. He just told me and then—and then he—he kissed me,” Charlie said.

Charlie didn’t want to face the obvious look of pity that Connie was undoubtedly shooting him at the moment. So he just looked over into the empty living room, trying to find any excuse to leave or stop the conversation.

“And then you fought?” Connie asked.

Charlie shook his head.

“No, he just left,” Charlie said, “and I didn’t go after him.”

It was that simple, now that he had said it aloud. Charlie hadn’t chased after him, and that was the reason he hadn’t called and had waited so long to go to a game. He should have chased after him. Told Adam that it was okay. That he wasn’t upset.

He should have told Adam that he loved him.

“He was in love with you,” Connie said, and Charlie just stared at her for a second.

“What?” Charlie asked, incredulous, “How do you know that? I mean he kissed me but—”

“Charlie, it was obvious. All of us saw it. You both were never that subtle or good liars for that matter,” Connie said, and she shook her head when Charlie glared at her “It was obvious in the way that he looked at you and spoke to you.”

“If he loved me then why did he run?” Charlie asked, but then he scoffed again before Connie could answer, “I didn’t even know he was into guys.”

“Does he know you are?”

Charlie ran a hand through his hair and stared down into the bottle of beer that he had grabbed from the fridge.

“No, we haven’t exactly talked about it, either the guys thing or what happened,” Charlie said, “It was ten years ago. We were kids, what is there to talk about? It’s water under the bridge.”

“Are you sure, Charlie? It was enough that both of you avoided talking to each other for years. Is that really all behind you?”

It wasn’t, Connie was right. But Charlie didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know what he really wanted from the situation.

“I don’t know,” Charlie finally said, “I just—I don’t want him to run off again. I just got him back. And I don’t even know if I feel that way or if he does.”

To be honest, Charlie did know how he probably felt, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Connie, no matter how perceptive she was.

Connie put a hand on his back, a small comfort for what seemed like such an insurmountable problem. He felt so small. As much as they had healed their broken friendship, they couldn’t go back to being eighteen. Life and time just didn’t work like that.

“I think you should figure it out,” Connie said, “ and preferably before Adam leaves Minnesota.”

She left Charlie there, standing in the kitchen staring out the window at Adam who was laughing over something Guy was saying.

Yeah, he would have to figure it out.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The date of Adam’s return to Anaheim was rapidly approaching and neither Charlie nor Adam got any closer to talking things through. Charlie struggled to push down the feelings that would sometimes creep up completely unprompted.

They didn’t have that much time left, and Charlie was determined not to blow it. Connie would shoot Charlie a knowing glance every time she saw him, but he just ignored her.

Charlie knew they would have to confront it eventually. If they were going to move forward and re-capture what they had been, that would mean accepting the whole of themselves and their relationship. Charlie didn’t particularly want to think about the idea of Adam being with girls or other guys. But it was a reality that he would have to face.

But he put it off, just wanting to revel in the place where they were now. He just wanted to enjoy having Adam here, with him even if always at a bit of distance. It was like he had been dying of thirst for years and he wanted to grasp to any source of water that could be found. An oasis in the desert.

He took pride in the way that he could read Adam’s every mood, his every gesture, because he knew that he knew Adam in a way that no one else ever could. It was uncanny. When they were young, their bond had shone through how they worked together on the ice. Now, it was only evident in the little things. The small touches, the knowing glances across the table.

It was exhilarating, but also terrifying.

Mostly terrifying because Adam would be leaving soon, and Charlie felt himself grow more distraught the closer the time came. He didn’t know why he was worrying about it so much. This wasn’t going to be like last time. They were still going to talk, Charlie had talked about even flying out for a game or two. Maybe it was because of Connie’s advice to talk to Adam before he left.

Maybe it was because despite the closeness, Charlie had not been able to tell whether Adam felt the same way at all.

Adam’s lease ran out about a week before he was set to leave, so Adam ended up moving into Charlie’s spare room. If either of them worried that being in such close proximity would cause any unforeseen problems, they didn’t show it, but Charlie found it was incredibly difficult to fall asleep with the knowledge that Adam was just feet away.

Charlie couldn’t have said whether he had been actually physically attracted to Adam back in high school, but coming home from work and finding Adam sprawled out on the couch reading a book, it was hard to deny that he was attracted to him now. Or when they were sitting on the couch watching the tv, and they were much closer to each other than they needed to be, and Charlie could smell the body wash Adam used.

It was driving Charlie crazy.

And he didn’t want to tell himself that it would just be for a few more days, because in a few more days, Adam would be gone and that was the opposite of what Charlie wanted.

Two days before Adam was to fly out, Charlie took him out to a pub. One last outing before Adam was back to the grind of the NHL. He had committed to spending the next day with his parents and brother, who was in town, so it would be the last real time that Charlie and Adam had together.

The waitress at the pub had been extra attentive to the point that Charlie was pretty sure that she was into at least one of them. Not that Charlie particularly cared, but Adam had looked uncomfortable enough that Charlie thought that he could possibly be into her too. It wasn’t a welcome thought, and not one he wanted to have on his and Adam’s last night together.

So they ended up not staying at the pub like they had originally planned. Adam seemed on edge, and Charlie wondered whether it was because of seeing his parents the next day, or him leaving, or what.

“She was into you.”

It was the first thing Adam said when they were back in the apartment. Charlie was confused.

“What?”

“The waitress. She was into you,” Adam said, his voice strained.

Charlie didn’t quite understand when and why this became a thing, but it obviously bothered Adam.

“She might’ve been into you, you’re the famous athlete and all,” Charlie said.

“I’m not that famous,” Adam said.

Something in the air had changed, and Charlie knew that all the things they had been dodging for months—no years—were threatening to come to the surface.

“Yeah, well, I’m not into her,” Charlie said, “Why the interest anyways?”

“No interest,” Adam’s voice was meek and Charlie could feel him pull away. He had to do something, anything to change the subject.

“So, you nervous about seeing your dad or something tomorrow?” Charlie asked, trying to come up with any other reason for Adam to be on edge.

“No,” Adam said.

Charlie nodded and he waited for Adam to make a move. Something was about to happen, but Charlie just wasn’t sure exactly what.

“So, you really weren’t into her?”

Why was Adam getting hung up on that?

“No,” Charlie said, and he suddenly realized just how close he and Adam were. Closer than they needed to be for the conversation at hand.

“Good.”

Charlie wasn’t sure Adam had meant him to hear that, but it didn’t matter, Charlie heard it anyways. And just like ten years ago, Charlie realized that the next moment was crucial. Everything rested on his next move. And it was his move. Adam had done it back in high school and look where that had gotten them. To this weird in-between place. A place where feelings existed but could never be acknowledged.

“I’m—” Charlie started, but then stopped, and did the only thing that he could think of doing.

He kissed him.

Unlike the relatively chaste kiss in the Eden Hall locker room all those years ago, there was no awkwardness to this kiss at all. Just a deep-seated desire and slight roughness in its urgency. Charlie smiled into Adam’s lips when he felt Adam tentatively cling to Charlie’s shirt on his side. Charlie took the gesture as invitation to loop his arms around and run his hands up Adam’s back.

When they pulled apart just far enough for Charlie to note the glazed look in Adam’s eyes. The way they were clouded with—desire? lust? passion?—Charlie didn’t care.

“Don’t you dare run,” he whispered, barely even trying to conceal the desperation in his voice

Adam only muttered, “Okay.” That was all Charlie needed to go back to kissing him senseless and pulling him towards the bedroom. He was running all on instinct. This would not be a repeat of that scene in the locker room those ten long years ago, Charlie would make sure of it.

Charlie peeled his own shirt off and it took only a mere second for him to crawl onto the bed, running a hand up Adam’s thigh until they were once again face to face. Charlie pressed down into him, feeling the rush of blood go from his head down to his cock. He didn’t know if he’d ever been this hard in his life. He broke away from Adam and proceeded to run his lips across Adam’s jawline, and then his neck and then the collarbone and further down. He gently ran his fingers across old scars from bad checks.

Charlie didn’t want to move too slow, he didn’t want to allow for there to be any time for Adam—or Charlie himself—to start having second thoughts. But he also wanted to imprint every look, every sound, every kiss in his mind. There was a very distinct possibility that this night would be all that they would ever get. Who knew what would happen the morning. No, Charlie needed to make this last as long as he could.

Charlie only briefly separated to yank open the drawer next to the bed to pull out a condom. He left the drawer open—he would need it later—and then picked up where he had left off. He glanced up over Adam’s navel to see Adam on his back, an arm raised, bracing himself by hanging on to the headboard. Charlie smiled and proceeded to pull Adam’s jeans down until Adam was completely laid bare. Charlie was almost mesmerized by it. By how good Adam looked, how good it felt to have Adam under him. How he had always wanted this, and had never dreamed it would actually happen.

“Charlie, don’t stop, please—”

Adam’s voice and the urgency for release pushed Charlie to go back to what he was doing. He grabbed Adam’s swollen cock and carefully rolled the condom on. He licked his lips in anticipation of what was to come. He took all of Adam into his mouth and slowly worked his way up and down, moving slowly at first trying to contain the instinctive gag reflex, then maintaining a steady pace of working his mouth over the full length of Adam’s cock. He coiled his arms around Adam’s thighs to keep Adam stable and to pre-empt any wild buck of the hips. Adam gasped and groaned with each stroke, getting closer and closer to completion.

Charlie debated just allowing him to get off right then, but he decided against it. Instead,r he stopped and pulled himself back up to stare at Adam. He kissed him again and then pressed his forehead to Adam’s.

“What—”

“No, not like that,” Charlie said, his own voice was breathy, trying to keep his own libido in check.

“Please hurry.”

“Of course, babe.”

The endearment comes naturally, like a reflex, as if this wasn’t the first time they had ever done this. As if they had always been like this.

Always. It was a nice word. Charlie could get used to it.

But he didn’t waste any time, rather going back to the drawer to pull out a jar of lube and another condom. He briefly wondered whether the lube was still good—it had been awhile since he had last had sex—but shrugged it off. He was not going to be deterred.

He applied a generous amount of lube to his right fingers, and then slowly, carefully he began to push them into Adam, stretching him. Charlie never took his eyes from Adam’s face as he worked deeper and deeper. He looked in awe of just how—

How absolutely perfect Adam looked in that moment.

Charlie didn’t think he had ever felt quite like this about anyone, and he somehow knew he would never feel this way again. He couldn’t get the words out, Charlie didn’t even know if there were any words to describe what he was feeling in that moment.

“Adam,” was all he was able to get out, before he backed up to finally drop his own jeans. He watched Adam’s chest rise and fall in quick succession. He was still hard from the short unfinished blow job and Charlie knew that it was unlikely that either of them would last that long.

He applied one more round of lube and then crawled back up the length of Adam to meet him in the eye one last time.

“You ready?” he asked.

Adam put a hand to Charlie’s cheek.

“For you?”

Charlie nodded and Adam brought their lips together again.

“Always,” Adam said when they pulled apart

There was that word again. Always. The permanence of it, the depth of feeling. It was like they had convinced themselves this was real.

Adam turned, and Charlie brought the tip of his own hard cock at Adam’s entrance. Charlie took in a deep breath, internally reminded himself that he had to make this good, he pushed gently and began to slowly rock his hips back and forth into Adam’s.

Adam gasped a bit, but if that had to do with any pain it was quickly replaced with moans of obvious pleasure. Their rhythm was natural, almost perfect. Charlie had known they would be. They had always been in lock step with each other, why would this be any different.

It wasn’t long before Charlie couldn’t even focus on any thoughts, the waves of heat running from his groin all the way down to his toes was almost too much to bear. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and brought his hand to Adam’s cock, now wet with pre-cum. It would be soon.

Charlie pressed his lips into Adam’s shoulder and he almost screamed with pleasure when he felt Adam’s body clench around him, sending him over the edge. Adam followed not long after, and when the aftershocks of the orgasm was through, Charlie pulled out and collapsed on his back. He listened as Adam’s own breaths began to calm and Charlie reached over and put a hand to his shoulder, partially to comfort Adam and to remind Charlie that he was still there.

They basked in an almost calm silence, the first they had since they were reunited. What was there to say. Charlie simply wanted to bask in what had just happened.

Charlie pulled himself even closer to Adam, his right hand finding Adam’s own and his fingers intertwined with Adam’s as if to signify a bond, a connection that Charlie didn’t want to break quite yet.

“Don’t go,” Charlie whispered in Adam’s ear and if Adam were to ask, Charlie wouldn’t be able to say whether he meant just that night or forever.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The left side of the bed was empty when Charlie woke up the next morning and for one paralyzing moment Charlie thought that Adam had just gotten up and left. He calmed though when he finally noticed the thin line of light from the bottom of the bathroom door and the sound of running water from the shower.

Charlie briefly entertained the idea of surprising Adam by joining him in the shower, but decided against it. There were things that needed to be said first. Charlie stared at the ceiling and then out the window at the rays of the bright morning sun. There were still things to be worked out.

Adam was still going back to LA the next day, and what did this mean for their friendship? Charlie didn’t try to work through all the problems and questions and what ifs, instead choosing to relive the night before. It had been. Well, it had been everything that he ever thought it could be. If that was all they got, Charlie thought to himself, he could live with that.

It was a lie of course. He was kidding himself if he thought that he could just leave things alone now. Go back to how things were. Not after last night. Not after—

This was it, Charlie thought to himself, Adam was It. He didn’t need anything or anyone else.

When the shower stopped, that was the cue for Charlie to move. He sat up and gingerly pulled up a pair of sweats that had been hanging on a chair by his bed. He turned back towards the bathroom when Adam came through the door, his wet hair slicked back, wearing nothing but the jeans he had been wearing last night.

Charlie didn’t think anyone else could look as good as Adam Banks looked right now.

“Shower’s free.”

A part of Charlie wanted to just go over and kiss him, push him back on the bed have another go, but he stopped himself, holding himself only to put a hand to Adam’s shoulder before heading into the bathroom himself.

“Stay,” he said simply, he should have added that they had to talk but he held back. Letting fear get the best of him again.

Adam nodded but then quickly glanced away, and the fear and trepidation that had haunted Charlie for weeks began to creep back in. He rushed through a shower, worrying that if he took longer than he needed, Adam would disappear again and Charlie knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

When he finally made his way back to the living room, he saw Adam there pushing out his bags.

“What, no breakfast?” Charlie asked, trying to make a joke of it.

“My mom’s hosting a brunch,” Adam said, “I’ll eat when I get to their house.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, “You don’t have to leave right away do you?”

“I’m already late. I called a cab.”

Adam slung a bag over his shoulder and moved towards the door. This was all happening way too fast, Charlie couldn’t keep up.

“Adam wait, I’ll drive you—”

Adam pulled away from Charlie’s touch, and Charlie felt a mix of anger and desperation rise within him. Adam was for some reason in a damn hurry to get out of the apartment and leave. Away from Charlie.

“What are you running from?” Charlie asked, practically shouted.

Adam stopped, but didn’t turn to face Charlie, so Charlie continued on.

“What have I done? Why did you run? Last night—”

“Last night was—” Adam didn’t finish the thought, but Charlie mentally finished it for him.

Last night had been a mistake. Adam thought it was a mistake.

And Charlie’s entire world absolutely shattered.

He grabbed Adam’s arm, one last ditch effort to turn this whole thing around. Adam was lying, there was something he wasn’t saying and Charlie wanted to shake it out. Why was Adam so afraid of this? Was it his dad? His Team? The NHL?

Or maybe it was him, Charlie thought. Charlie was never good enough. He’d given up on hockey way back when, not adventurous enough, not suave enough.

Whatever, he was, it was obvious he was never going to be enough for Adam Banks.

Adam shrugged him off.

“I gotta go.”

Adam walked out the door and Charlie just stared blankly ahead. How had it come to this. How?

And then Charlie remembered what had happened ten years prior.

_God damn it, not again._

Charlie practically blew through the door and rushed down the stairwell, hoping that he wasn’t too late.

But that hope was in vain, because just as he got out of the first floor of his building he saw Adam climb into the cab and ride off without nary a glance back.

And Charlie’s world broke again.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Charlie had half of mind to drive over to Adam’s parent’s house and just demand Adam to tell him what was really going on or to beg him to take Charlie back. Both options sounded pathetic and likely to end with Charlie spending the night in Hennepin County Jail, so he instead found the first open bar and proceeded to get absolutely shit-faced drunk.

It was late afternoon by the time Charlie, by some grace God, wound up at Connie and Guy’s front door. Lucky for him, the kids were out running around the neighborhood and didn’t have to witness Charlie’s bad example. Guy carried him to the back and sat patting his back in comfort. It was very patronizing, but Charlie didn’t have the wherewithal to complain.

Connie was less forgiving, stomping out later and demanding Charlie to tell her what was going on.

Charlie scowled. Even though he had been drunk for a good proportion of the day, there was only one reason Charlie could think that would explain Adam’s behavior. Whatever feelings Charlie had thought were between them had only been one way. He still didn’t quite believe it. Not really, but maybe he was just in deep denial.

As for why Adam would sleep with him, maybe he had an itch to scratch. It was unfinished high school business, and now that it was done Adam could move on.

What did it matter that Charlie couldn’t.

“That can’t be it,” Connie said, when Charlie related this to her.

“What else is there, Connie?” Charlie said, “You should have seen him. He couldn’t even look at me.”

“Adam would never use you like that,” Connie said.

“Oh yeah, well he certainly doesn’t want to be with me,” Charlie said. He felt the tears coming up. Tears he’d been holding back all day-maybe holding back for ten years.

“Charlie, you’ve known Adam most of his life. Can you really tell me that you honestly think he would use you for just a quick hook up?”

He knew she was right. There was something under the surface, but Charlie was tired and too stuck in his anger to try and empathize. Adam had hurt him, whether he meant to or not, and Charlie didn't particularly want to forgive him in that moment.

“He’s scared,” Charlie said finally when he came down a bit, “but he doesn’t trust me enough to talk to me, and that—”

Charlie didn’t need to finish his sentence, Connie hugged him and he somehow found himself crying into her shoulder. It was embarrassing really, but he just needed to let it out.

“It’s not like last time,” Charlie said, “he’s really gone.”

“I thought his flight wasn’t until tomorrow?”

“Does it matter?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, Charlie, you still have a chance,” Connie said, “You, more than anyone, knows how obtuse Adam can be. You said last time that you beat yourself up for ten years for not going after him, for not telling him how you feel. Do you really want to go another ten with the same regret.”

“I did run after him, but I missed him.”

“Ok, then this time you’re going to catch him,” Connie said.

Charlie couldn’t argue with that.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Adam’s flight was set for four in the afternoon. Charlie surmised that Adam would probably get to the airport a prompt three hours prior to departure. All he would have to do was beat Adam to the airport before he went through security.

It was something out one of those cheesy romantic comedies that Charlie’s mom used to watch when he was kid, but if this was a movie, Charlie wasn’t guaranteed any happy ending and luck did not seem on his side. A bad accident clogged up the highway on Charlie’s way to the airport and when he pulled into the departures lane, he almost worried that he was there too late.

He ignored the attendant yelling that he wasn’t allowed to park in the drop off lane. Charlie didn’t particularly care. They could tow his car, that would be fine, as long as he was able to reach Adam in time.

Adam was just handing his boarding pass and ID to the TSA agent at the beginning of security when Charlie rushed through the door. Charlie couldn’t really think of anything to do but shout Adam’s name, which caught more than one person’s attention, not that Charlie really cared all that much. All that mattered was that Adam turned and the look on shock on his face gave Charlie hope that he wasn’t about to make a tremendous fool of himself.

“Charlie, what are you doing here?”

Charlie took a moment to catch his breath and steeled himself to get out what he needed to say.

“I love you.”

Adam’s mouth hung open, but Charlie didn’t stop there.

“Listen, I let you just leave ten years ago and we didn’t talk and I can’t do that again. I don’t know what you’re running from, but I love you and I needed you to know that—”

“Charlie—”

Charlie held his hand up, he wasn’t finished.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I am not going to go another ten years without talking to you. So please, just stay, we can figure it out.”

Charlie was afraid to make eye contact, and when he did, his heart fluttered. Adam looked like he was about to say something, maybe acquiesce and stay if only for an hour longer, when the the TSA agent interrupted them, holding out Adam’s ID and boarding pass.

“Sir—”

And whatever moment had existed was dashed as Adam looked away and almost robotically made his way into the line for security.

“Adam, please,” Charlie said briskly matching pace with Adam as he made his way through the queue.

“Charlie, I can’t, I have to go,” Adam said, but there is no emotion. Charlie was wearing him down if only he just had a bit more time.

“Adam.”

Adam looked at Charlie and shot a small rueful smile.

“I’m sorry.”

And Charlie could do nothing else but watch as Adam passed through metal detectors, to the concourse on the other side.

Charlie just stood there staring at where Adam had once been. He couldn’t say that he didn’t try, but the fact that even after all that Adam still couldn’t bear to do anything but walk away was so completely disheartening that Charlie knew that it was really over. There was no coming back from this. Even if they stayed in touch, Charlie would always remember that this was the day that broke them.

“Excuse me sir, your car outside—”

Adam turned to the airport security guard and nodded.

“Don’t worry, I got it.”

He cast one last look back at the security checkpoint before heading back out to his illegally parked car.

“I’m done here.”

He said it more to himself than anyone else.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Charlie entertained the idea of going to the bar or Connie and Guy’s or even his mom’s in an effort to drown his sorrows, but in the end decided to just go home. He threw his keys on the side table by the door and made his way to his bedroom and collapsed on his bed.

He looked at his phone thinking maybe there might be a text or a voicemail but there was nothing. Not even a call from his mother. He closed his eyes and tried to forget everything that happened, but couldn’t quite chase the vision of Adam’s back as he walked away.

If he had just had more time, maybe if he had figured it out sooner. God if he could go back to high school and tell Adam then what he felt, maybe things would have been different. They had just waited too long. Too set in their ways to change.

Charlie let the exhaustion sweep over him as he fell into an uneasy sleep. Thankfully he dreamed of nothing. He was so beat both physically and emotionnally that he slept through the sound of a knock at his front door. It was only when it got louder and more incessant that he woke up. He looked at his phone, but there were no signs that anyone had called. The banging on the door grew louder, and Charlie scratched his head and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t really want to be disturbed right now.

It was probably Connie, he thought to himself, coming over to ask how things went.

“Go away, Connie, I don’t want to talk about it,” he yelled as he crossed the living room to the threshold, “I’ll call you tomorrow—”

Charlie opened the door fully prepared to tell Connie again to leave him alone when he froze.

It wasn’t Connie Moreau standing at his door, but Adam Banks.

Charlie thought for a moment he was hallucinating, he looked at his watch. Adam’s flight had been scheduled to take off an hour ago and yet here he was not on a plane back to California.

“Can I come in,” Adam asked, and he seemed small to Charlie for some reason.

Charlie just stepped back and opened the door wider, gesturing Adam to come in He couldn’t quite find his voice, almost afraid that if he said something he would wake up and Adam would disappear. This was a dream. He was definitely dreaming right now.

Adam seemed to breeze in and if he was nervous waiting outside of Charlie’s apartment, he seemed doubly so once he was inside.

Charlie just waited for him to say anything or disappear as the case may be.

“How could you do this to me,” Adam said, his voice just a little too loud that it grated in Charlie’s ears and that was when he realized that this was not a dream and that Adam was very much here in his apartment and not on a plane.

“Do what?” He asked.

Adam shook his head.

“I loved you—” Adam said, an almost acute desperation could be heard in his voice as if he was finally letting out things he had kept inside, “I loved you for a really long time. And I thought that I had messed everything up when I kissed you back after we won State. I had blown it, and you didn’t call.”

Adam swallowed, but Charlie didn’t say anything. He had said his piece at the airport. This was Adam’s turn. Charlie was done with making anymore moves.

“And it took me a really long time to get over you, to accept that I messed up. And I was doing okay, there were even other guys. But then you show up at that game and it’s like—it’s like I’m that kid again from Edina, and we just pick up like nothing happened. As if I had never kissed you.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Charlie said, and Adam shook his head.

“It’s crazy, Charlie. This whole thing is crazy.”

Charlie didn’t exactly disagree.

“You didn’t get on the plane,” Charlie said, thinking maybe steering the conversation back to the present would help settle the mood.

“No,” Adam said, “I didn’t.”

“Why?” Charlie asked, “Why are you here?”

Adam looked at Charlie and bit his lower lip.

“I don’t really know, Charlie,” Adam said, “You just showed up at the airport and you said all those things—”

Charlie nodded, but still couldn’t come up with a quip or an admonishment. He had thought with the events earlier that he had lost the ability to hope. But Adam was standing there, and it wasn’t a dream or a nightmare.

“I meant them,” Charlie said and then quietly added, “I still do.”

“It’s been ten years, Charlie! People don’t hang on for this long. I—”

“This isn’t about ten years ago, Adam,” Charlie said, “This is about the other night. Yes, I came after you today because I have been kicking myself for years because I just let you run away and didn’t speak to you for ten years. And I didn’t want that to happen again.”

Adam didn’t respond to that, just looked around the apartment. They were going in circles, and Charlie was too tired to carry on.

“So, you loved me,” Charlie said.

“So you’re into guys,” Adam said at almost the exact same moment.

Charlie made the quick decision for both of them to address Adam’s comment first. It was less weighted. Though not by much.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, “I’m into guys.”

“So, you’re gay,” Adam said, and Charlie smiled.

“Well, I mean maybe, there are still girls, I mean if Megan Fox were to walk through that door I wouldn’t exactly say no. So I guess, I’m what you call, the one where you like both—”

“Bisexual?”

Charlie clapped his hand and pointed straight at him.

“Yeah, that,” Charlie said wagging his finger to emphasize that point.

Adam smiled and managed a small chuckle.

“So there have been others,” Adam said finally.

“You mean guys?” Charlie shrugged, “Yeah a few, only one was anything serious. I mean other than—”

Charlie doesn’t have to say ’you.’ He pointed the question back at Adam.

“What about you?” Charlie asked, “you’re—”

“I’m gay,” Adam said, “but you knew that.”

Charlie couldn’t deny it. The idea of Adam ever being with a woman was a bit odd.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, “and you loved me.”

Adam avoided making eye contact, instead he walked towards the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony and Charlie watched as his shoulders fell.

“You love me,” Charlie repeated, and he barely registered that he had switched to present tense, “and yet you ran and you walked away.”

“Because it scares me, Charlie,” Adam said, his voice curt and way too loud—it would be a small miracle if none of his neighbors managed to eke out their conversation, “It scares me. I woke up the other night and you were there and for once I had gotten everything I wanted.”

Charlie moved to say something, but then thought better of it.

“And it scared me. Because with you, it was like I knew, that if you were just to ask, I would give up everything—my career, hockey everything in the past ten years if you asked.”

“Why would I ever ask you to give up any of that?” Charlie asked.

“It’s not that I thought you would,” Adam said, “I know you wouldn’t, but the fact that you affect me like that. That you were the one person I could never walk way from. The person I could never lose. That’s terrifying.”

“You walked away today,” Charlie said, “And you ran back then.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Adam said.

Charlie had inched closer over the course of the conversation.

“You are here,” Charlie said, mimicking Adam’s words back to him, “and why are you here?”

Adam looked at Charlie.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Charlie bit his lip.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” he said finally, “because I’m tired, Adam, and I can’t keep running after you. I can’t go through this every time things get hard or emotions run hot. You can walk out that door and we can just be old friends. The occasional Christmas card, the once a year Ducks reunion that’s it. But if you stay, then you need to know that I am never going to let you go, come hell or high water. You understand?”

Adam didn’t breakaway but he didn’t say anything either. Not that it mattered, he knew that Adam understood his full intentions.

“Now this is a limited time offer, you have approximately five minutes to make up your mind before I make it up for you—”

Adam cut him off, pulling him close and unlike that spontaneous kiss back in high school, this one felt sure and real.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me, Banksie,” Charlie said when they pulled away.

“I think it’s the other way around,” Adam said.

Charlie smiled and pressed his forehead to Adam’s, just savoring the feeling that Adam was there for real.

Of course, they couldn’t completely forget the reality of their situation.

“So, you missed your flight,” Charlie said.

“Yeah, I did,” Adam said, kissing Charlie again, but Charlie wasn’t going to let go.

“So—-”

“I called in, said I had a family thing so I’d be a few days late,” Adam said.

“You can do that?”

Ada smiled.

“Yeah, well it’s probably a once in a career sort of thing, but I think it’s worth it.”

Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, who knows, maybe I’ll join you in California,” Charlie said.

Adam pushed away and stared at Charlie for a moment as if trying to grasp whether Charlie had really meant it.

“Don’t joke, Charlie. You can’t come to California. Your mom, your business. You love it here.”

Charlie looked around his small apartment, it all seemed very inconsequential and then he looked back at Adam. No nothing here really compared at all.

“Sure,” he said finally, wrapping his arms around Adam’s waist, “but not as much as I love you.”

 

 

 


End file.
